Familiar Faces
by dustycaramac
Summary: Sequel to ROSE. 2nd in the series. Enjoy! :-)
1. Run & Forget

**1. Run & Forget**

"RUN!"

It was good to run. Running stopped everything from overwhelming him, dragging him down to the floor and preventing him from climbing back to his feet in order to bounce on the balls of them.

Pelting down corridors felt good because, just for a moment, he could forget that the small brown hand held in his was not the small white hand which it could have been had he voiced his feelings.

Accelerating away from an enemy helped him lose himself in the adrenaline pumping doubly through his veins, gripping tightly to the hand which had followed him all the way across this universe. This universe, and this universe alone.

They leapt over the body of a fallen man and continued to run. The steady thud **thud** thud **thud** thud of his double heart beat drowned out the sound of the pursuing aliens; although it wasn't enough to stop him from hearing her panicked breathing beside him.

They rounded a corner, his Converse trainers squeaking on the highly polished surface as the TARDIS came into view. He released the hand and the illusion was broken as he fumbled around his neck for the key, drawing it out and almost falling against the door as he inserted it into the lock.

"Hurry, Doctor!" Martha yelled, her head twisted in order to see the distinctly unattractive beasts that were currently getting closer to them, sharp objects in their hands. The Doctor turned his head too as he rotated the key and heard the satisfying click as the TARDIS acknowledged their presence and the door swung inwards.

The Doctor stepped back and allowed Martha to collapse into the TARDIS first. He graced the aliens with his usual brilliant grin before disappearing inside his brilliant machine with his brilliant self and slamming the door. Except, he wasn't brilliant. Not since…

There were several thuds as their followers crashed into the now firmly shut wooden panels, distracting him from his thoughts and pulling him with an unsettling jolt back to firm reality.

He leapt forward, sidestepping Martha and quickly activating the TARDIS. The sound of the universe filled their ears and then, only then, did he allow himself to collapse in the jump seat and take in deep breaths.

It was a while before either of them could speak. The Doctor swallowed heavily, under the impression, just for a moment, that he might be able to get some words out now, but he quickly resumed his laboured breathing.

Martha was the first to break the silence – or relative silence – with a choked out, "Oh my God."

The Doctor nodded in agreement, feeling the amount of oxygen in his lungs rising up to just higher than critical level.

"They're crazy," she continued, when it appeared as though the Doctor was not going to say anything.

"Yep," he said, continuing to nod.

"I suppose that's what you get when you go to Pencillia and insult penicillin, isn't it?"

The Doctor surveyed Martha, parting his lips into a slight pout. "How was I meant to know?" he said defensively. "I thought they liked pencils, not penicillin."

"Doctor," Martha said seriously, in her best patronising voice, "even the planet Pencillia doesn't worship pencils. Who worships _pencils?_"

The Doctor opened his mouth to speak, but Martha cut across him, "That was rhetorical. Please don't answer it." He shut it again with a click of his teeth.

When their breathing levels had returned to normal – completely normal, and the Doctor made sure of it – he leapt to his feet and started to press buttons. "Right then," he said, rolling the 'r' as Martha staggered upwards only to collapse where he had previously been sitting, "home time for you, Martha Jones. Well, not literal home time – just a quick visit. Although…" He screwed up his face, deep in concentration. "I… don't think I'll come in, thanks."

"She's not going to slap you again," Martha said, with a sigh. "I think we're all a bit past that, don't you?"

"Even so," the Doctor said, sounding like a child who really didn't want to go somewhere or be somewhere, "I… the TARDIS. I need to do some work on the TARDIS. She's been needing some doing for a while."

Martha rolled her eyes. The Doctor gave her his best puppy dog eyes but she didn't stop, simply said, "If that's not just an excuse not to see my mother, then I'm an acrobatic monkey."

"It can be arranged," the Doctor growled as he pulled a lever. Martha couldn't help smiling at him, and he grinned back. "Right then, there we go. I'll wait here."

"All right," Martha said, with a resigned sigh. "I'll be back in a couple of hours and we can head off again, yeah?"

"Yeah."

She left.

During The Year That Never Was, he'd had time to think, and plenty of it. He'd come, slowly but surely, to the conclusion that he absolutely hated himself. Three words and she would have come with him. Three words and The Year That Never Was would have somehow become a lot more bearable. Three words and a blonde ray of sunshine would light up the TARDIS, light up his life.

"Forgot my clothes!" Martha said, startling him so much that he jumped almost out of his skin. Martha raised her hands and apologised, before moving down the corridor and returning with a massive rucksack in her hands, reminding him of Rose. He gave her a quick smile as she left the TARDIS for the second time, and then it disappeared from his face. He sighed and sat down on the jump seat, resting his feet on the console.

He hated this. The hoping and the wishing and the begging and the what ifs that always, _always_ came next. He hated it so much. But not as much as he hated himself. He almost wanted to forget. Almost. But then he remembered – and oh! What he remembered. The beautiful blonde who had been willing to give him everything – had already given him so much.

Three words. Just three.

Shaking himself violently, he jumped up and practically sprinted to the door of the TARDIS. He had to get out of there – his thoughts were beginning to overwhelm him.

He shut the door, shoved his hands in his pockets, and sauntered down the road. Having Jack around had reminded him of Rose. He'd enjoyed that link to her. He had told the immortal man that the doors had closed. For him, they really had. He'd ruined everything just because… just because…

He shook himself again, the chill of the weather bringing him back to his senses. As he emerged into the town centre, he realised that it was actually extremely cold. He was considering returning to collect his coat, when a sign caught his eye.

'CHRISTMAS SALE – 20% OFF!'

He smiled and wormed his hands deeper into his pockets. That time of year again, then? He found himself wondering where Donna was. Had she decided to go to Spain this year, or had she branched out and gone to, say, America? He smiled wider.

He was distracted by a boy banging into him as he raced past and into one of the shops. He did feel like yelling at the lad and being an old miser, but decided against it – after all, he did have a little bit of Christmas spirit. A tiny bit.

He found himself subconsciously looking around for the movement of shop window dummies, the traditional pilot fish or drones dressed up as Santa Claus in order to blast his or anyone else's brains out. But it was, strangely, quite a calm afternoon.

A complete contrast to what was to come.


	2. Teenagers

**2. Teenagers**

He wandered in and out of the various shops, feeling like a drifter who had little to no purpose in his life. And maybe that was true now. He had tried again and again to shake the feeling that he didn't have anything to live for – after all, there was Martha, and all the other stupid, _brilliant_ humans that needed looking after once in a while – but he hadn't quite managed it yet. It was always there, occupying at least one tenth of his brain. It was the reason he had mentioned Rose so often when he'd first met Martha; he hadn't been able to forget what had happened, although he'd often pushed it to the back of his mind.

He missed her.

Oh, Rassilon and Omega, he missed her.

And hated himself.

"Help!"

He was running again, as fast as he could, but this time he didn't have a hand to hold. He was lonely – so incredibly lonely. He hadn't realised the power of the warmth the intimate or not so intimate gesture had, not until recently. He felt like he should feel stupid for needing that hand to hold, but he didn't, because he'd admitted it quietly to himself for so long now. When Martha had fallen asleep that night in Shakespeare's house, he'd whispered it to the stars. As he sat, hugging his knees, old and frail, in his dog kennel, he'd whispered it to reassure himself that there was life outside of this hell. In the cage, he'd mouthed the words, speaking an effort that required too much energy for his frail form. In his room in the TARDIS, lying alone, when Martha had left, he'd shouted it at the top of his voice.

_I love you, Rose Tyler._

He skidded to a halt in front of a woman of about fifty. She was looking disgruntled and eyed him up critically as he tried not to let the fact he was tired of running show. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Those boys – stole my handbag! Just snatched it!"

The Doctor looked around to see a couple of boys rounding a corner. He gave the woman a quick salute and pelted off after them. Much as he loved having a hand to hold, he wasn't going to make the poor woman run like that.

They were fast, the boys. The Doctor found it difficult to keep up with them, and had absolutely no idea what they looked like they were so far ahead of him. He was using their clothes in order to spot them in the crowd.

They knew these streets well. They were forever ducking into side alleys and clearly knew that the Doctor was following them. Why they didn't just turn around and try to beat him up was a debateable issue, one which the Doctor did not dwell on for too long.

He didn't know for how long he'd been running when they finally stopped and wheeled around to face him. He stopped too, refraining from coughing and spluttering as they'd just laugh at him, beat him up, and then run off again.

"Why are you following us?" one of them demanded, his eyes flashing.

The Doctor quickly regained his breath and gave the boys a smile. "I think you have something that isn't yours."

"What're you going to do about it?" the other asked defensively.

x

Ten minutes later, two very sorry looking boys were handing over one very sorry looking handbag to one very angry looking woman with one very smug looking Doctor looking on. The hero in question was thanked profusely by the woman before she went on her way.

"Anything else?" the first boy growled.

"No thanks!" the Doctor said cheerily. "That's all."

The two boys began to walk away, and the Doctor grinned at how he'd made them apologise. He was brilliant. "Hey – wait!"

Both of the boys turned around, and the Doctor began to think that maybe they were the same person, seeing as one step further and they'd both be speaking at the same time. It was the brown-haired boy, the first one who'd spoken to the Doctor. He seemed familiar. Extremely familiar. So familiar, in fact…

"You're the one who bumped into me!" the Doctor said, clicking his fingers as he realised where he recognised him from. "Right, sorry." He cleared his throat and attempted a stern voice, "Try not to crash into people."

The boys said nothing, simply glared at the Doctor and ran quickly away. It made him feel oddly cheerful when they did so. He then winced. Is this what he was doing now – rescuing women's handbags from the clutches of young males?

He strode back to Martha's determinedly. He was meant to be fighting aliens, not teenagers.

x

"Doctor!"

Martha was in a fit of giggles, and he found himself not wanting to know why. It was one thing to laugh with someone because you were there when the joke was first discovered, but it was a completely different thing to get up to speed with a joke that had occurred a while ago.

He held up his hands and backed into the TARDIS, allowing her to follow him and heading towards the console. "Are we ready to go, then?"

Martha nodded, unable to speak. The Doctor felt his mood turning sour. The fact that the TARDIS was carrying the sound of Martha's laughter down the hallways and not the sound of a certain somebody else's laughter always made him frustrated for some reason. Martha seemed to sense this change and sobered remarkably quickly.

"Where to?" the Doctor asking, twisting a lever multiple times. Martha shrugged and he quickly looked away, sensing the awkwardness of the situation.

Then the TARDIS sparked. "Whoa!" The Doctor furrowed his brow and pulled the screen round to face him, leaning over it and inspecting the writing there. After doing this, he fell back into the jump seat. "Well, that's interesting."

"What is?"

"The TARDIS is doing something… something that she hasn't done for a… well, she's accelerating for no real reason. It's like… it's like the time Captain Jack was holding onto the outside of the TARDIS, and she took us right to the end of the universe, remember? She's doing something like she was doing then."

"But she's not doing what she was doing then? Only something like it," Martha said, coming over to the Doctor.

"Yes, exactly."

"So where are we going?"

"I'm not sure," the Doctor admitted. Martha looked worried for a moment, so he quickly reassured her, "I'm pretty certain that we're not moving through _time_ though, only location."

"Why?"

"Um…"

"You're not sure."

"No."

The TARDIS landed with a gentle bump and the Doctor and Martha eyed each other warily. Finally, the Doctor sighed and jumped up. "Well, we're not going to get anywhere by sitting around here all day." He made his way to the door and pulled it open, emerging into the bright winter sunlight, blinking.

He put his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his feet as Martha came out next to him and shut the door behind her. "So where are we?" she asked.

The Doctor looked up at the sun – although not directly at it, he didn't want to go blind thank you very much – and curled his lip in thought. "Well," he said, "the sun's currently beating down upon our heads and there seems to be a little ice under my feet. I would say it's earth, about two hours after we entered the TARDIS and we seem to be in a very expensive housing estate."

Martha looked at the Doctor with her eyebrows raised in question. "So… why are we here?"

"Um… I don't know."

The sound of running feet came to his ears and he immediately turned in that direction. It was a brown-haired woman, running alone. He pitied her – she had no hand to hold. At least he had Martha with him; she had no one.

Idly, he wondered why she was going on a run just before the sun set (as it set so early in the winter months), when he realised that she was wearing quite expensive looking clothes and seemed to be making a beeline for the TARDIS, Martha, and himself.

As she got closer, his jaw began to drop. By the time she was several metres away, he'd had time to shut it in order not to appear too gormless.

As the woman threw her arms around his neck, instinctively he moved to snake his hands around her waist. He lifted her and breathed into her hair, too stunned to grin manically.

_Rose._


	3. Explanations & Jealousy

** & Jealousy**

It took a while for them to sufficiently disentangle themselves from each other, and by this time the Doctor truly was grinning. A million things ran through his mind at once; what he could say to her, what he wanted to say to her, and whether or not Martha had guessed at what was going on yet.

His brain was a confusion of swirling matter, most of which he could not distinguish into words and phrases. He managed to blurt out, "You've stopped dyeing your hair!"

Rose laughed and he felt his hearts beat a little faster. Dreaming about her laughter was one thing, but hearing it was something else. How he'd missed her laughter.

"Do you like it?" she responded, flicking it for good effect. It was a lot longer now, curled at the back but straightened at the front. She looked beautiful, and for the moment the hows and the whys could wait.

"It's brilliant," he responded, and she grinned, her tongue poking between her teeth cheekily. Oh, not too much had changed. He contented himself with staring into her deep brown eyes.

The moment was broken up when Martha cleared her throat loudly next to him. He looked over at her and twitched – he'd already forgotten that she was there. "Oh! Right. Martha, this is… Martha, this is Rose. Rose, this is Martha. I…" He trailed off, unsure of what to say.

Martha's expression was more than a little surprised. She'd listened to the Doctor tell Jack that Rose was stuck on a parallel universe, so why was she here, of all places?

Rose started tugging on the Doctor's arm, giving him a small smile. The Doctor happily let her lead him wherever she was going, and Martha was not going to miss out on this, she just wasn't. She followed in their wake, trailing a little behind them and seething with jealousy as Rose grabbed the Doctor's hand if it was the most natural thing in the world. But Martha remained silent, dragging her feet only a little. After all, this was Rose and the Doctor.

x

The Doctor settled himself into the sofa Rose had indicated, and felt Martha sit down beside him. He didn't resent the girl's presence – he was much too overjoyed for that – but had thought that she would have the intelligence to head back into the TARDIS and realise that this was quite personal for him. Obviously, she didn't – although, he told himself, that wasn't exactly fair. She was very clever. Just not in this type of situation, clearly.

Rose tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear as she sat down opposite him and gave him a big smile. "I missed you," she said. The Doctor found that saying words was actually quite difficult. Rose didn't seem to mind, luckily.

"How?" he whispered after a while.

Rose sighed. "That's an interesting story, actually." The Doctor nodded at her to go on. She sighed again, rubbing her eyes.

"When you left, I was offered a job at Torchwood again. I didn't think you would be coming back this time, and I knew it was right that I move on. I'd had my last moments with you, and that was fine. Now I needed a life of my own. We spent so long finding out about alien artefacts and going into the field. I enjoyed it because it reminded me of you, in a good way." She smiled across at him and resisted the urge to pat his knee. "But one day, my assistant and I – can you imagine, me with an assistant! – were chasing up a particularly dangerous alien artefact. I made the mistake of touching it."

Her expression darkened as she tucked the same piece of hair behind her ear again. It was quite short so it continued to fall over her face each time she did it. The Doctor found himself a little distracted by it.

"It put me into a coma, of sorts. It wasn't really a coma – it was more like stasis. I didn't breathe, didn't eat, didn't age. I lost ten years of my life, whilst everyone grew up around me, whilst they grew older."

"I'm sorry," the Doctor said quietly.

"That's all right," Rose said, and she had cheered up somewhat now. "When I had recovered Dad told me…" She smiled again. "They'd found a gap between the worlds."

The Doctor shifted uncomfortably on the sofa. "Don't worry!" Rose said, with a laugh. "We know it was you who left it. I thought as much. It's not like you to leave and not be able to control whether or not you can come back."

"It wouldn't have damaged anything," the Doctor said, "it… it was safe. I just left it there in case I needed to come back – in case I felt like you wanted me to come back…"

Rose waved a hand to quiet him, and he fell silent. "We found a way to cross the void," she continued. "Me, Mum, Dad, Sophie…" She stopped and bit her lip. "We took some money, of course. We couldn't survive in Mum's old flat without money. Enough to keep us all comfortable for the rest of our lives. And we waited for you to come back."

The Doctor swallowed. "How long?"

"Six years."

The Doctor looked around. Rose lived in a nice sized house with several bedrooms. "Where's the rest of the family?" he asked. "Jackie… Pete…?"

"They're out," Rose said, with a nod. "They should be back soon." As she said this, the phone rang. She leapt to her feet and picked it up. "Hello? Hello, darling. Yes, of course. I'll see you soon. Bye."

She put the phone down and turned to face the Doctor. "You'd better go," she said. The Doctor looked like he was about to protest, so she said, "I'll meet you in the park in town tomorrow, okay? It's called Northgrounds. About eleven or twelve?"

The Doctor nodded and stood up, giving her a smile. "All right. I'll see you then."

They shared a hug before they left, and Martha trotted obediently after the Doctor as they walked back towards the TARDIS. "Well, that was suspicious," she said.

"What was?" the Doctor asked, walking on air and oblivious to pretty much everything else.

"Her getting rid of us that quickly," she continued. "It's almost as if she had something to hide, don't you think?" The Doctor didn't reply. "Doctor? Don't you think?"

"Leave it, Martha," the Doctor growled.

"But there has to be a reason why she just got rid of us! Something she doesn't want you to see, or it could be a trap, or–"

"Martha, I said drop it!"

"I'm just trying to help," she said sullenly.

"Well, you're not helping!"

"Fine!" Martha responded. "You can go and meet dear Rose in the park tomorrow and you can take _me_ home right now."

"Fine." They stepped into the TARDIS and Martha shut the door whilst the Doctor keyed in the coordinates to take her home. Martha folded her arms and waited for the ship to land. There was no way in hell she was going to stay if the Doctor was going to snap at her for no reason.


	4. Discovery

**4. Discovery**

He had been eager to go and meet her. He had sat down next to her on the bench and put his arm around her, squeezing her to him tightly before releasing her and slumping down. She had turned and smiled at him.

"Hello," she said.

"Hello," he replied.

They sat in happy silence for a while, before Rose broke it. "Where's Martha?"

"She's gone home."

"Oh." Rose inched a little closer to the Doctor and rested her head on his shoulder. He didn't quite know how to respond, but relaxed a little. "How long has it been for you?" she asked him.

The Doctor laughed humourlessly. "That's complicated."

"Why's it complicated?" Rose asked, raising her head a little to look up at him.

He shook his head. "Never mind," he said, and she rested her head back onto his shoulder.

"So, how was Jackie?"

"What?"

"Last night. You said that your family was going to come home soon, and I thought Jackie called."

"Oh, no," Rose said, recovering. "That was Sophie. She came over last night."

"Oh. How old is she now?"

"Almost eighteen," Rose said, and he could tell she was grinning even though he could not see her face. "I missed her growing up, though" – her voice had turned sad – "she looks so much like me, we could be twins."

"So… you're twenty-six? Or almost."

"I _look_ twenty-six or almost," she corrected him. "I'm actually thirty-six or almost."

The Doctor smiled. "How is Jackie anyway?" he asked. "I haven't seen her for… sixteen years." Rose laughed slightly.

"She's fine. You should come see her. I haven't told her that you're back yet. A nice surprise for her."

"A nice surprise?" the Doctor repeated incredulously. "What do you mean a nice surprise?"

"You've grown on her," Rose said.

x

That was certainly clear. His face had been so assaulted with kisses that he was surprised that it hadn't been worn down. But he'd enjoyed it, in a way. He had missed Rose and that sort of meant missing her family. Sort of.

Jackie had made them some tea and forced him to sit down at the kitchen table and tell them everything that had happened since they had last met. The Doctor humoured her to an extent, leaving out some of the more painful details.

Then, a great deal changed. A voice yelling from upstairs – a female voice which the Doctor did not recognise. At first he thought it was Sophie, but when Rose and her mother exchanged meaningful glances, he realised that this was not the case.

Rose hissed something unintelligible at her mother and left the room quickly. The Doctor leapt up and made to follow her, when Jackie caught his arm and shoved a pot of jam in his face. He was slightly stunned to realise that she thought he had the attention span of a five year old and could be distracted with something like a pot of jam. He pushed past her and into the hallway.

Rose was standing by the door, fumbling in her purse for something. It wasn't this that interested the Doctor, however, it was the girl standing in front of her.

She was almost as tall as Rose, with blonde hair that was longer than the older woman's. She was pretty, with a sharp nose and deep brown eyes. She was also slim, wearing blue skinny jeans and a green polo shirt, stylish black trainers on her feet.

She had evidently heard the Doctor emerge into the hallway, because soon she turned her head to look at him. Her profile had been pretty enough, but her face was beautiful. He soon found out why.

She gave him a critical look, up and down, before looking meaningfully back at Rose, who hastily shoved a few notes into the girl's hand. With one last look at the Doctor, the girl smiled at Rose and kissed her on the cheek, voicing, "Bye, Mum!"

She left the house, shutting the door behind her. Rose turned to look at the Doctor as Jackie pushed past him. The younger woman had a semi-apologetic look on her face.

"Guh."

x

The Doctor fell back onto the sofa, his expression completely bewildered. For once, he was entirely lost for words. Rose sat down opposite him, resting her face in her hands, waiting for him to speak. "Mum?" he managed, faintly.

"Yes, Mum," Rose said, and couldn't help smirking a little at how pale the Doctor was turning.

"You… you had… you had a child?" he stuttered.

"Yes," Rose confirmed.

"Wh… whose?"

"Yours."

The Doctor turned, if possible, even paler, before trying to regain his composure. He opened his mouth to speak.

"She doesn't know about you," Rose said simply. "I'd like to keep it that way, please."

"You never even mentioned me?" the Doctor asked. His eyes betrayed his hurt, and he felt petty for saying it, but he felt he needed to, in a way.

"You never mentioned Sarah-Jane," Rose responded coldly.

The Doctor thought about this for a moment, before he realised what she was trying to say. "Oh, Rose," he said gently, "I can't believe you thought that I wouldn't–"

"Why would I think that you would?" she cut in. The Doctor shut his mouth. There wasn't really a reply to that, short of saying that he had – and that would sound pathetic.

"Anyway," Rose continued, trying to break up the icy atmosphere, "I went to the doctor's for a scan several times. The first time I went…" She trailed off, smiling in memory as the Doctor leant forward in order to be able to hear her more clearly. "The doctor said… she said that there was a double heart beat."

The Doctor blinked and then grinned as he realised what this could mean, what this meant. But then Rose continued, "But she's human. As far as I can tell, completely human. They both are."

The Doctor remained silent for a few moments, his eyes bulging out of his head. "They?" he asked faintly, feeling dizzy.

"They," Rose repeated, a smile on her face as she leant forward and put her hand on his shoulder. "I gave birth to twins."

She could feel him trembling underneath her touch. He hadn't really reacted in any way yet – despite the fact that this was quite a big bomb to drop on him. She hoped he'd be mature about it, as opposed to distinctly immature, as was his usual wont.

"Um," he spluttered.

"It's quite a lot to take in," Rose said soothingly.

"You got that right." It was hard keeping his voice on an even level. She wasn't even going to _tell_ him? What was she thinking? These were his children. His family! His _only _family…

He stood up abruptly, and her hand slipped from his shoulder. "I… I need time to think," he said, stuttering. He quickly left the house, pushing past an understanding Jackie Tyler who didn't press him as he thought she might do. It was all he could do to stop himself from running full pelt back to the TARDIS and collapsing in a heap on the floor.

_Twins?_


	5. Cooking

**5. Cooking**

It was when Rose was preparing food in her own house the next day that she heard the frantic knocking at the door. She couldn't help smiling to herself, because she knew who it was and she had guessed that this would happen. She rubbed her hands down on her pink apron and then went to the door, opening it wide.

The familiar, boyish face with the messy brown hair and the apologetic look greeted her. She smiled at him and stepped back to allow him entry. He followed her into the kitchen where she continued to roll her pastry.

"I'm sorry," the Doctor said. This was all he had wanted to say, but Rose was silent, and he guessed that he would have to go on now that he had started. "I'm sorry for running out, I mean. It was just a lot to take in."

Rose nodded. Her hair was done up in a high bun, with the shorter bits of her hair framing her face at the front. She looked beautiful, even when she was cooking and hadn't got any make up on.

The Doctor swallowed as he came to stand next to her at the island bench, poking the unused pastry dough with his finger thoughtfully. "How old are they?"

"Sixteen," Rose said, and took the time to look at him quickly with a smile plastered on her face, before going back to her kneading.

"Sixteen." The Doctor nodded, taken aback by this. "Wow." He moved quickly to the sink, washing his hands, before returning to the unused pastry and copying Rose's movements. She laughed at him and he pouted.

"You're so stupid," she said, but her tone was soft. She put her hand in the flour bag and gently sprinkled some of it over his pastry. "It gets all sticky otherwise," she explained. "And you have to wear an apron." The Doctor didn't bother protesting as she slipped a plain white apron over his head and secured it behind his back. At least it wasn't frilly. Rose then waved her piece of dough in his face and began to demonstrate how to knead it.

The Doctor looked down at his own meagre piece of pastry and began pushing at it against the tabletop with his hands. Rose clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes but said nothing. It was obvious that he had no idea what to do, but was enjoying getting his hands covered in flour anyway. It was like having a little child trying to 'help' with the cooking.

"Your daughter's beautiful," the Doctor said, squashing the pastry thin with his fingers before rolling it up into a ball again. "She looks a lot like you."

"Really?" Rose asked. "I thought she looked like you."

"She wouldn't be beautiful if she looked like me," the Doctor said in a small voice. "Definitely takes after her mum."

There was a squeal of happiness in his ear and, before he knew exactly what was happening, Rose had thrown her flour covered hands round him and kissed him fiercely on the mouth. The Doctor squeaked a little in surprise, still holding the pastry less than firmly in his grip. Rose had released him within a few seconds and gone back to her own dough, leaving him a little staggered.

"I've changed my mind," Rose said, as if nothing had happened. "About the twins, I mean. Mum said that they should know who their father is, and I think she's right."

The Doctor looked over at her and stretched the dough out between his hands nervously. "They're coming home in a couple of hours," she said. "I think you should tell them then."

The Doctor tried not to consider this prospect. It gave him butterflies in his stomach even when he was _not_ thinking about it. "Why do _I_ have to–" He broke off when he saw the look on Rose's face, and cleared his throat, starting again. "What are their names?" he asked, finally putting the pastry down and rubbing his hands together to rid them of the flour. The effort was mostly unsuccessful.

"Althea and Robbie," Rose answered.

The Doctor nodded, a smile tugging at his lips. "Mum and I named Althea after you." The Doctor looked confused. Althea was nothing like Doctor, unless she meant Theta, and how could she know about that…?

"It's a healing name," she said. "Well, it means 'healing herb'. It's from a shrub that's also called a marshmallow." She grinned along with the Doctor. "Very you. Doctor and sweet tooth. No one but Mum and I know about that, though."

"And as for Robbie," Rose continued, "his real name is Robert, but don't call him that because he'll get furious."

"Why? Robert's a good name."

"I know. He just prefers Robbie."

The Doctor didn't look overly pleased with his task in a couple of hours. Rose patted his arm and said, soothingly, "It'll have to be done someday, Doctor. Best get it over and done with now."

x

The sound of keys in the door made the Doctor jump. He had been sitting at the television set, quite happily watching an episode of Coronation Street whilst Rose busied herself putting on make up and trying to make herself look 'even slightly presentable' in her words. The Doctor had been a little too worried to think of his own appearance, but he did peer at himself in the hall mirror once and run his hands through his hair to make it a little spikier. Not that this really helped.

Rose's quick footsteps down the stairs alerted him that one of her children was home. One of their children. One of _his_ children. He winced.

"Doctor!" she hissed from the hallway.

Reluctantly, he stood up and dragged his feet to the open door of the living room, leaning again the doorframe and poking his head out into the hallway.

"Hi, Mum!"

It was Althea. At a second glance, the Doctor could tell that she was even more beautiful that he'd first perceived. The fact that this time he knew that she was his daughter wasn't a factor in this decision at all, of course.

Rose and Althea shared a quick hug, and then the teenager dropped her bag on the hall table. "You will _never_ guess what happened today!" she enthused. "You know I went out with Flora and Rebecca and Richard and that lot, right? Well we went into London, and I was quite cold so Richard took me to _Abercrombie_ and he bought me this!" She gave a little twirl. She was wearing a white hoodie with brown writing across it. Rose smiled indulgently. "Do you know how expensive these are? They're like… well, Richard wouldn't tell me, but they're so expensive. And Flora was like, 'Richard, aren't you going to buy us one too, because Rebecca and I are cold', and he was like, 'Thea's special'!"

The Doctor was staggered. It was incredibly obvious that she was his daughter. No normal person could ever talk that fast or have that much to say. It was as she finished her reel of speech that she noticed him again, and she stared at him pointedly.

"Thea," Rose began, "this is–"

"You were here yesterday," Althea interrupted her mother. "At Gran's." She turned and looked at Rose. "He's not one of yours is he?"

"No, sweetheart."

"Oh, good," Althea said, with a roll of her eyes. "They're always weird. I'll be up in my room, okay? I bought this amazing pair of shoes and I want to show you." She grabbed her bag again, kissed her mother quickly on the cheek, and ran upstairs.

When he was sure she was out of hearing range, the Doctor, who had been gaping like a guppy fish for most of the time, said, "This is _not _going to be easy."


	6. Althea

**6. Althea**

The Doctor struggled to recall a time when his palms had ever been this clammy. He almost wished that Rose had not changed her mind, and that she still wanted him to keep mum (he laughed a little at this turn of phrase) about being the twins' father.

She had suggested that he talk to his children separately because of their differing personalities. Whilst Althea, apparently, was quite loud and talkative, Robbie was introspective, and a typical moody teenager (apparently. It wasn't as if the Doctor had met his son yet, so what did he know about this kind of matter?).

The Doctor swallowed the rather prominent lump in his throat – or at least tried to – before he realised that it was his Adam's apple. Oh, this was going to be difficult. He raised his hand and knocked on the door to his daughter's bedroom, ever so thankful that he'd taken off the apron that Rose had accosted him with before making his way up the stairs.

"Come in!"

The Doctor put his hand on the door handle and twisted the knob gently, pushing the door open and emerging into the room.

The room was blue. No, it wasn't just blue; it was a TARDIS blue. He assumed that that had been Rose's choice and not Althea's – but maybe his daughter had a link with the TARDIS even though she did not know about it? The thought pleased him.

She was sitting on the bed. She'd taken off her hoodie and had placed it carefully over the chair near her desk. She was wearing a brown top with even more writing on it (the Doctor didn't bother to read it – it wouldn't make sense, anyway) and had changed into white jeans whereas before she had been wearing blue. She was sitting sideways to the door and attempting to pull a brown boot onto her foot.

"Hello," the Doctor said.

Althea looked up and gave the boot one last yank. It worked and she did the zip up without looking down at it. "Hello," she responded, sticking her bottom lip out a little bit and furrowing her brow.

"Hello," he repeated, for lack of anything better to say. Oh, this _was _difficult, and they were still on greetings. She raised her eyebrows at him.

"Are you going to say anything other than hello?" she asked.

"Eventually," the Doctor admitted, with a half smile that his daughter did not return. Instead, she swung around on the bed to face him, crossing her legs and fixing him with an unnerving penetrating glare, not unlike Jackie's.

"All right, let's hear it," she said, with a sigh.

"Hear what?" he asked, genuinely intrigued to know what she thought he was going to come out with.

"That you're Mum's boyfriend," she said, rolling her eyes. "It's a little _obvious,_ no offence. I mean, even Gran knows because you were at her house. Mum never tells Gran anything unless it's like, life and death serious. You're Mum's boyfriend."

The Doctor found himself shaking his head very quickly. "No, no," he said. "Nothing like that." He glanced over at the chair. "Can I sit?"

"Knock yourself out," Althea said, picking at her varnished nails. "Not literally, though," she added quickly, looking up at him again. "Because then you'd just be on the floor in my bedroom and…" She trailed off. The Doctor sat down.

"So you're not Mum's boyfriend," Althea said, after a pause.

"No."

"I find _that_ hard to believe."

The Doctor frowned. "Why's that?"

"Um, _hello_? Chemistry? Oh, I know!" She pointed her finger at him. "You're going to ask my permission to ask her out."

"No!"

Althea heaved a very long sigh and tapped her fingers against the wooden bottom of her bed. "Then _what_?" she asked.

"Um, Althea–"

"People call me Thea," Althea interrupted.

The Doctor nodded, clasping his hands together and resting his elbows on his legs as he leant forward and Althea swivelled around again in order to face him. He brought his hands up to his chin. "Thea," he repeated. "What do you remember about… well, about… anything?"

Althea raised her eyebrows again. "About _anything_? What sort of _anything_?"

"Just… your life." The Doctor didn't want to say the words 'alternate universe' in case Rose did not want him to. There had been no guidelines on what he could or could not say, and he felt a little as if he was flailing around in the deep end here. Maybe he and Rose should have discussed this beforehand.

Althea narrowed her eyes at him. "What's your name?" she asked, firing back with a question of her own.

"I'm… I'm the Doctor."

Althea winced, visibly. The Doctor sat up, confusion evident in his eyes as she leapt to her feet and shut the door of her bedroom. "The Doctor?" she repeated, in a whisper.

"Yes, the Doctor. What's wrong with–"

"Oh, only _everything!_ Mum thinks Robbie and I are stupid; she thought we didn't hear her cry at night, or talk to Gran about you. Oh my God. Stand up."

The Doctor dubiously did as he was asked. Althea wasted no time in grabbing his arm and dragging him over to a large mirror on the opposite side of the room. There they stood, side by side, and there was no mistaking it. Althea had so many of the Doctor's features – his thin face and frame, his build, his long legs. He could tell that her eyes were his, as opposed to Rose's. And yet she still looked so much like her mother.

Althea grinned at him, and the Doctor was glad to see that she'd inherited his manic grin. He smiled weakly back as she turned to face him and he turned to face her.

"Hello, Dad," she said softly.

"Hello, Thea."

She flung her arms around his neck and held him close to her. This was her father. Her _father_. The Doctor. Finally, this was her father.

They pulled away after a few minutes and the Doctor put his hands on her shoulders. "Althea Tyler," he said, sounding incredibly proud of her.

"Daddy," she said. It was then that he noticed that she was crying.

"Hey, none of that!" he said, a little surprised. "It's all right."

"No, you don't understand," Althea said, sniffling a little. "I just feel sorry for you."

"What do you mean?"

"Well. You have to tell Robbie next."


	7. Robbie

**7. Robbie**

Althea had walked downstairs, the Doctor in tow, before the teenager – his _daughter_ – began to dance eagerly around the kitchen in order to show her mother her new boots. She had then left to go and watch her show in the living room.

The Doctor hadn't been able to resist pulling Rose against him and enveloping her in a tight hug, which she happily returned. "You told her, then?" she whispered into his hair.

"She already knew," the Doctor breathed into her ear. His eyes couldn't help noting how beautiful she was from this angle, and on instinct, he licked the lobe of her ear. She giggled and bit down gently on his own ear. He wrapped his arms, if possible, even tighter around her.

"Rose… I l–"

He was interrupted by a loud knocking at the door, and the two of them pulled apart instinctively. Rose patted her hair down and went to the door quickly, pulling it open. The Doctor followed her out into the hallway and froze as he saw who came in.

The two of them eyed each other warily. "Robbie, this is my friend," Rose said, waving a hand at the Doctor. "I'd like you to talk to him, if that's okay."

Robbie shrugged and continued up the stairs without saying a word. The Doctor was open-mouthed as he followed his son resolutely up to the second floor of the house. He entered the teenager's room before Robbie was able to shut the door.

The boy glared at him before shutting it anyway. "If you've told her," he said, and his voice was a warning to the Doctor, who raised his eyebrows.

"So what if I have?"

"If you have…" Robbie trailed off, unable to find a sufficient threat.

Robbie had been the one 'shopping' in town when the Doctor had had the misfortune to come across him. Oh, the Doctor hadn't forgotten. "Robbie – you stole a lady's handbag!"

"So what?" he asked. "You made me give it back anyway."

"Would you have kept it had I not been there?" the Doctor asked firmly.

"What do you think, idiot?"

"If you would have, then it's not 'so what'! It's not 'so what' at all! Stealing is a crime, Robbie, and I–"

"What do you care?" Robbie asked, sullenly, his voice raised.

"I care because… well because…" This is not how the Doctor had imagined telling his son that he'd done a naughty thing with his mother and produced a thief.

"Because what?" Robbie demanded, his chin stuck out defiantly.

"Because I'm your father, that's what!" the Doctor thundered finally. At least it was out in the open now. The Doctor cleared his throat after a slight awkward silence in which Robbie just stared at him.

Then several things happened at once. For one, Robbie lunged at the Doctor and for two, as a result of this, the Doctor fell backwards onto the desk that his son had in his room. It hurt. But not as much as the punches that Robbie was attempting to land on his person.

He would have been quite a good fighter, if he'd been properly taught. But Robbie clearly was an act first, think later kind of person. The Doctor found it quite easy to grab his son's wrists and hold him at bay. He could stand Robbie kicking his shins.

"You slimy, son of a–" Robbie was saying. "I should really– going to kill–"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" the Doctor voiced. He felt quite awkward about how Robbie was sprawled on top of him, kicking him in any place that was within reach. The teenager was getting quite close to something that the Doctor didn't want kicking, and so he shoved Robbie – quite hard. His son fell backwards and sat, steaming, on the floor. He seemed to have calmed down a little. A little.

"Where's this coming from?" the Doctor asked, rubbing his split lip.

"Where have you been for _sixteen years?_" Robbie demanded, his eyes flashing. He reminded the Doctor of a male version of Jackie. She was _everywhere_!

"That's… complicated," the Doctor said. They were facing each other, sitting on the floor, the Doctor in a lot of pain but not quite willing to admit it.

"Just how complicated can it be? Didn't you even _care_ to get to know us? Didn't you give a damn about us, or Mum? Who do you think you are, swanning in here after sixteen years and just telling me that you're my dad. Some dad you are!"

"I didn't _know_," the Doctor growled, his eyes turning dark. Was there a bit of fear in Robbie's own eyes, now? Excellent. "Believe me, Robbie, if I'd known, then I'd have been here every single day."

Robbie gave a derisive snort and got to his feet, brushing himself down. The Doctor followed his son's lead, without the brushing down. "Look, Robbie, I'm not asking you to like me. I just want you to hear me out – you and Althea. I think there's some things that your mum and I need to iron out with you two."

Robbie glared at him, folding his arms across his chest. Really, now the Doctor thought about it, his son looked quite similar to Althea. Except, of course, he had brown hair.

"I'll hear you out," Robbie said, "but you've got five minutes, and don't expect me to accept what you have to say."

It struck the Doctor just how much his son was like him. And now came the _really _difficult part.


	8. Your Dad

**8. Your Dad**

The Doctor twisted his hands anxiously as Rose sat down gently beside him, patting his knee. He assumed that it was for good luck and boy, he was going to need it. "They'll both be down in a moment," she said softly.

The Doctor turned his eyes on her. "What am I going to _say_?" he asked, blindly. "What do I tell them?"

"Well, they already know that you're their dad, right?"

"Yes." Rose bit her lip. "You know your kids better than I do. Surely you know what I can say? Or you can do the talking?" he added hopefully.

Rose smiled and shook her head. "_Our _kids," she stressed, "and it's up to you what you tell them, Doctor. I'm the one that's been here the whole time, now it's your turn. But I'll stay here with you."

The Doctor let out a squeak as he heard two sets of footsteps coming down the stairs. He looked nervously at Rose, who blessed him with an encouraging smile. Soon, Althea and Robbie entered the living room. Althea sat down opposite them as Rose removed her hand from the Doctor's knee. Robbie lingered near the door, looking sullen (in fact, quite like himself, the Doctor thought).

After a few seconds of awkward silence, the Doctor cleared his throat. "Right," he said squeakily. He winced and cleared his throat again. "Right," he continued, in his normal tone of voice. "Well, as you both know, I'm your father–" Robbie interrupted him with an angry snort which he chose to ignore. "My name's the Doctor… and I'm your father," he repeated. "Clearly, there are some unresolved issues surrounding this and I–"

"Are you an alien?" Althea said, swiftly.

The Doctor was taken aback, and glanced at Rose, not for the first time. She decided to take this particular bombshell off his hands, much to his relief. "Yes, love, he is."

Althea was stunned into silence. The Doctor would have risked looking at Robbie if he hadn't already guessed that he was being given a death glare. He twiddled his thumbs nervously. Never – never _ever_– had his hearts been beating this fast before. Not even faced with a werewolf. Or the Beast. Or the Master. This was saying something. This was definitely, one hundred per cent, absolutely with complete and utter physical bells on, saying something.

He winced when Rose poked him in the side. "Right!" he said instinctively, unsure of how to follow up that particular word. He looked around the room, searching for something to say, before he finally settled on, "Any questions?"

"That's _it_?" Robbie asked loudly. "'I'm your dad, I'm an alien, any questions?' God help us all."

"Robbie," Rose said, in a stern, motherly tone of voice that seemed to suit her, somehow, "your dad's trying his best."

The Doctor squirmed. He'd never been referred to as 'your dad' before, and especially not by Rose.

"So what," Althea said, "does this make us half alien, half human?" She cast a worried look at Rose. "You're not an alien, are you?"

Rose chuckled. "No, Thea, I'm not."

The Doctor was proud of his daughter for taking the news well. He couldn't think of any other half human in the world who would not be extremely terrified of the notion that they were half human. "Yes, it does," the Doctor answered Althea's previous question. "Well, you're actually half Time Lord, half human if you want to be technical about it–"

Rose looked from her children to the Doctor, rolling her eyes and interrupting the latter's rambling. "Robbie?" she questioned. Her son looked at her resentfully, and she sighed as he walked out of the room. She stood up and followed after him quickly, emerging into the kitchen a few seconds later. "Rob–"

"I don't want anything to do with him," Robbie said vehemently.

"Why not?"

"Where's he been for sixteen years, Mum? He hasn't come back even to say hello. He hasn't been here for any of our birthdays or our Christmases. Where was he when you were in a coma? Didn't he even care about us enough to show his face once?"

Rose sighed again and sat on the kitchen bench. She swung her legs gently and put her hands into her lap as Robbie went to the sink and poured himself a glass of water. "Robbie, do you remember when we moved house? From living with Gran and Granddad to here?"

"Yes," Robbie said, downing the whole glass in one breath. "What about it?"

"You know I told you it was because you and Thea were getting too big for the house, and we had to go? And then as soon as we left, your grandparents moved too because it was too big for just the two of them?"

"I don't see what this has to do with that man–"

"Robbie, you were born in an alternate world." Rose swung her legs a little more and ran her hand through her hair. "You were… I travelled with the Doctor for a long time before I had you two. It's always dangerous, travelling with him. He gets into so much trouble, but I went with him because… it was a once in a lifetime experience, and it's… amazing."

Robbie set the glass down, his eyes wide as he tried to take in this information.

"One day, I got left in an alternate world. The Doctor was stuck in this world. And I know he would have done anything to reverse time…" She paused slightly, before going on. "He managed to come back a year or so later, when Sophie was still a baby. He left again soon afterwards." She rubbed her eyes tiredly. "He left me pregnant with the two of you. It wasn't his fault."

"Why not?" Robbie countered. "You said he left you again when he could have taken you with him, he left you again when you were _pregnant_–"

"He didn't know I was pregnant," Rose said quietly. "I told you that we moved house. We did more than that – we moved _worlds,_ Robbie, and my family was in the alternate one. I wasn't about to run off with the Doctor again and leave everybody, but he wasn't going to stay in a world that he didn't belong to, either. It would have been different if he'd have known. Don't you remember the zeppelins?"

Robbie squinted, trying to remember. There were no memories of any zeppelins. He shook his head. "It wasn't the Doctor's fault, Robbie. All I'm asking is for you to give him a chance. He didn't hurt me – he never would, not on purpose. He's your dad. Just one chance. Can you do that for me, Robbie?"

Robbie stared at his mother – she who he loved above all others in the world – and, after a moment, nodded. "Yes, I can."

Robbie re-entered the living room, but Rose stayed behind. The Doctor was on his feet, next to Althea. They had clearly been deep in conversation, just like Rose and her son. Robbie walked slowly over to his father and his sister. The Doctor faced him, and Robbie stopped a metre away, his eyes surveying his father with a renewed curiosity.

"I'm sorry," Robbie said, but a tinge of resentment remained in his voice. "Mum just explained, about the alternate worlds. And I'm willing to try. Not for you, but for Mum. I'm not sure that I trust you yet." He trailed off, unsure of what else to say. It was clear that the Doctor was lost for words also; instead of responding, he reached forwards and clapped his son on the shoulder, tightening his grip on Robbie with emotion.

"That's all I can ask for. And I won't let you down, okay? You're my children."

Stiffly, Robbie nodded.

And maybe, just maybe, they would end up a happy family after all.


	9. Passion

_A/n: SittingOnTheEdge, this chapter should answer your question ;-)_

_As always, thank you for the lovely reviews :-)_

**9. Passion**

Later that evening, the Doctor and Rose were attempting to prepare dinner. Robbie and Althea had both gone out to the same party about an hour ago, and Rose had insisted she teach the Doctor how to cook something other than toast. He couldn't see the point, but grudgingly went along with the idea for her sake. For a time, in any case.

Twenty minutes into the exercise, and he was already frustrated. He threw down the cheese that he was holding and grabbed the tomato out of Rose's hand. "I give up," he growled.

Rose laughed and neatly took the tomato back. "No you don't, Doctor."

He snatched the tomato from her, sighing heavily. "I really do." He put the tomato down before Rose could take it again, and grabbed both of her hands in his. "Come with me."

He led her, unresisting, out into the night, taking her down the road, turning left down another road, turning right down a footpath, before they finally emerged into the town. "Doctor–" Rose began, but he shushed her several times, holding his free hand up in a gesture that meant for her to be quiet.

They headed towards the centre of the town, where the restaurants were. Rose had a happy feeling that he was going to take her into an expensive restaurant for dinner, but instead he turned into quite a dilapidated fish and chips shop.

At first, Rose felt bitterly disappointed. The Doctor had always been like this, she supposed, getting her hopes up before dashing them quickly. But as soon as her chips arrived and they'd sat down opposite each other on a table, she dug in happily and felt absolutely fine doing so – even happier than she would have been had they been in an expensive restaurant, she thought.

"Careful you don't choke!" the Doctor joked, eating his own chips with a little bit more decorum (but only a little bit, mind).

"I won't," Rose said through a mouthful of chip. "I never have before."

They ate in silence for a while. At one point, the Doctor stood and retrieved a sachet of ketchup from the counter, which they shared. When they had both finished and had sat back, quite contented, the Doctor began to speak.

"I can't believe I missed them growing up." His face was glowing and Rose was glad that the prospect of having children pleased him, as opposed to frightened him.

"Me too," Rose mumbled. The Doctor cocked his head to one side, imploring her with his eyes to explain. "I was in stasis for the first ten years of their lives, remember?"

"Oh… yeah."

Rose said softly. "I feel like such a bad mum for missing out on those important years–"

"You're _not_ a bad mum," the Doctor said immediately. "You're a brilliant mum. All someone has to do is look at those kids and they'd know that."

Rose smiled a watery smile. "Thanks."

"It's the truth," the Doctor insisted.

She sighed. "Still. I've always wanted a baby… but I've got two sixteen year old kids and I look twenty-six. I probably repel men because they think I'm a… a whore or something."

"They don't think that. _I_ don't think that."

"Yeah, but you know the truth. Imagine how difficult it would be to explain to someone that I lost ten years of my life. Who would want a woman like that?"

"I would," the Doctor said, in a small voice.

Rose blinked, and the only sound that could be heard for a good long while was the Doctor's stunted breathing. "What did you say?" Rose asked.

"I said I would," the Doctor repeated, slightly louder.

Rose couldn't speak quite properly. "I… I… I mean… Doctor… that's…"

The Doctor leant over the table and placed a finger to her lips, and only then did Rose become aware of the tears in his eyes. "Rose," he whispered softly, his voice cracking. "You humans are so fantastically brilliant. The way you want each other, hold each other, need each other, love each other. I'm lucky to be able to travel this world and others because of it."

He swallowed, and Rose found herself mesmerised by his Adam's apple as he removed his finger from her lips and gently stroked her cheek with the back of his hand.

"I… I could go all the way out to the planet Gagaraxic and I would never find anything like it. It's so brilliant. The way you… the way you…"

It was Rose's turn to place her finger on his lips as she smiled at him indulgently and whispered, "You're babbling."

He took her hand and held it in between two of his own. "Can you let me babble? Otherwise I will never say this."

He took in a deep breath, and seemed to be building up to this moment. Rose's breath caught in her throat as he stared at her with open adoration in his eyes, and rested his forehead against hers. The thought that was currently running through her mind was of how uncomfortable the Doctor must be, the table pressing into his stomach like that. Not to mention the fact that they were getting more than a little stared at. They were still in the chippy, after all.

He swallowed again and said softly, "I love you, Rose Tyler."

Tears began spilling from her eyes, and she let out loud, heartbreaking noises that made the Doctor leap to his feet, navigate the table, and pull her into his arms. She bawled against his chest. "I should have told you. I should have told you so many times. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he said, and realised that the tears falling down were no longer just Rose's. "I love you."

"I… I love you too," Rose sobbed, and grabbed the collar of his jacket tightly. "Come here," she said fiercely, sounding eerily like Jackie. He leant down, she leant up, and before long they both became quite dizzy from the ensuing passion of their following kisses.

x

They'd been kicked out in the end, for snogging a little too passionately in front of numerous customers. They'd actually scared away a mother and her five year old child, something which Rose had found incredibly amusing. It had been difficult to kiss her whilst she'd been laughing so much. The Doctor was having more fun than he'd had in years, and it was all due to those three words.

They'd headed to the (now dark) park in order to kiss a little more (and do other things as well – not particularly worth mentioning specifics but certainly worth noting). Luckily, the woman who had been walking her dog right by the bush they were hiding in did not hear the supressed giggles of the two of them as they attempted not to be discovered. Rose felt like she was a teenager again, and the Doctor… well, the Doctor felt like he was two hundred years old again.

Oh, bless them they were immature.


	10. Meet the TARDIS

**10. Meet the TARDIS**

Rose woke to the sound of snoring. Since she was awake, it definitely was not her making such noises. She arched her back a little and turned her head so that she could look behind her.

The Doctor's head was resting on her shoulder. He was asleep, a slight smile on his face, his arms wrapped around her. Rose snuggled deeper into him and gave him a quick kiss on his nose before turning her head back and resting it on the pillow.

He wasn't snoring, exactly, more like snuffling. It reminded her of a squeaking rodent, and although she tried desperately not to think of the Doctor as a rat, mouse, rabbit or any other small furry creature, the image of a rat with his face swam to the forefront of her mind.

She giggled.

"What?" the Doctor murmured sleepily, his hands slipping up her top and his fingers tracing circles on the bare skin of her stomach. She shivered in delight.

"Nothing," she said softly. 'Just thinking of a rat with your face' would seem like an odd thing to say, and so she refrained from doing so.

"You all right?" he asked gently, his breath tickling the skin on her neck.

"Fantastic," Rose responded, grinning.

"Mmm," the Doctor said absentmindedly, and she could almost hear him shut his eyes and try to go back to sleep. She looked over at the alarm clock.

"It's twelve o' clock, Doctor," she whispered.

"So?"

"So… time to get up." She tried to disentangle herself from his arms, but he held her close.

"Don't wanna," he said awkwardly, reminding her of a small child, and she turned to look at him, only to see him pouting at her through half closed eyes. She kissed him on the lips and turned her body fully to face him. She moved her hands down to his waist, and began to tickle him.

He squeaked and fell out of his side of the bed, taking the covers with him. Rose couldn't help laughing at him as she got up and grabbed a towel. "I'm going to have a shower," she said, looking over at him. His head was poking out from in between the covers as he sat on the floor, his hair extremely big and tousled. "Get dressed!" she instructed, and he yawned in reply. Rolling her eyes, she headed into the en suite bathroom.

"Is there a lock on that door?" she heard him ask.

She shut the door behind her. "Yes," she said in reply, "and I'm going to use it." She turned the knob for the lock and there was a satisfying click as the door locked. She heard the Doctor making noises of disapproval before she turned the shower on, undressed, and stepped into it.

x

She came into the kitchen fully dressed and showered. The Doctor was sitting at the table, the newspaper in front of him, his glasses perched on the end of his nose and a pencil in between his fingers. He was dressed in his blue pinstripes. She took some cereal from the cupboard and sat opposite him.

"You liked the suit, then?" she asked.

The Doctor looked up with an expression of puzzlement on his face. She indicated what he was wearing with a nod of her head as she munched her cereal. He grinned. "Oh, yeah. Brilliant."

She smiled back. "Doctor," she said, causing him to look up again. "I thought you could show the twins… show the twins the TARDIS today."

The Doctor frowned. "What happened to the Rose who said that she didn't want the two of them to know about me?" he asked.

"I've changed my mind," Rose said, suggestively raising her eyebrows, "after last night."

The Doctor blushed and Rose giggled as he quickly dipped his head. "What are you doing?" she enquired as he stuck the pencil in his mouth.

"Crossword," he burbled through a mouthful of wood, lead and rubber. Rose sighed and finished off her cereal, standing up and placing the bowl in the dishwasher. She leant over him and pointed to one of the gaps.

"Tendency," she said, making him jump.

"Oh, yes," he said, writing it in.

"Just like you have a tendency to talk too much, my love," she said, ruffling his hair and kissing him on the top of the head.

The Doctor was about to respond to that statement indignantly when the front door was unlocked and two sets of footsteps came hurtling into the kitchen.

"Hi, Mum!" Althea said, bouncing happily over to her mother and kissing her on the cheek, before elbowing Rose out of the way in order to wrap her arms around the Doctor's neck. She kissed him on the cheek, too, a surprisingly intimate gesture that had the Doctor reeling with pride. "Hi, Dad."

"Hi," he squeaked.

Robbie threw a tennis ball at his sister, and she caught it gleefully. "Not in the house!" Rose snapped immediately, making the Doctor jump. She'd inherited her mothering skills from Jackie, clearly.

Rose placed her hands on his shoulders and gently massaged them as she instructed the twins to sit. "Kids, your father and I… we have something to show you."

It occurred to the Doctor that Rose must be excited to step back into the TARDIS. They hadn't been inside together since they'd found each other again, and the Doctor was aware of how fond the TARDIS was of Rose (and most likely vice versa too).

Whilst he followed this train of thought, Rose quickly explained about the Doctor's ability to travel through time and the fact that he had a blue police box time machine in order to do so. They both took the news quite well, considering (but the Doctor had to remind himself that they'd readily accepted that their father was an alien, so this must be nothing to them).

"Are there robots in the future?" Robbie asked hopefully.

Rose threw her son an odd look. "Anyway," she continued, "we thought it was time that you got to know the TARDIS." She smiled and her children looked at her, and then the Doctor, moving their heads almost at the same time. The Doctor swallowed at how similar they were.

x

"Oh, she's _beautiful_," Althea enthused, stroking the supports of the TARDIS as if she was always meant to be there. The ship purred under her touch.

"It looks like a plant," Robbie stated bluntly, his arms folded as he leant against the console.

The Doctor bit his lip and looked at Rose, before looking back at his son. He cleared his throat. "I might teach you to fly it one day," he said, his voice shaking ever so slightly, "what do you think of that, son?"

Robbie looked at him, making him feel very small. "Don't call me son," he murmured. The Doctor swallowed and cleared his throat.

"Yes, quite right too. Sorry," he said. He looked around the interior of the TARDIS nervously as his children went to explore. Her telepathic being was telling him just how happy she was to have laughter ringing through the TARDIS once more.

x

**Two Months Later**

Rose smiled at the Doctor as she emerged into the console room. He looked up at the sound of her footsteps and smiled back. "Hello," he said.

"Hello," she replied. She headed towards the jump seat and sat down in it heavily. For once, the Doctor was not fiddling with the wiring of the TARDIS, just watching the screen.

"Doctor," she said, and he turned to look at her, planting a swift kiss on her forehead before moving around the console.

"Yes?"

"I'm pregnant."

The Doctor choked on his own saliva, his head popping out from behind the column in the middle of the console, his expression gaping. "You – pregnant…" he blithered.

"Yes. Me," she pointed to herself for emphasis, "pregnant." She rubbed her belly. "Yours."

"That's… that's good to know," the Doctor said faintly, his voice high. "I just have to… go… outside for a while. Yeah – go outside–"

"If you run from this, I will never talk to you ever again," Rose said sharply. The Doctor's shoulders slumped, and Rose felt awful. "Sorry," she added.

"It's okay," he mumbled. "You're probably right."

"You said that you missed out on Robbie and Althea's baby years," Rose said gently. "Don't miss out on this little one's too." She smiled wildly. "I'm looking forward to it."

He came over and sat down next to her, wrapping his arms around her and nibbling on her ear gently. "I love you," he said huskily.

"I love you," Rose replied, and then corrected herself, "_We _love you. Please don't leave."

"I won't," he promised, and Rose turned to look at him, kissing him on the lips. She drew back.

"I was thinking… if it's a boy," she said innocently, "how about John?"

"John," the Doctor replied, "would be perfect." He kissed her on the nose and pulled her close to him, his hearts jittering in excitement and anticipation of the new life.


	11. Chapter 11

_A/n: So originally this was meant to be the beginning of the third in the series... but I've combined two and three. Just... because. Enjoy! ;-)_

**Chapter 11**

_Three Years Later_

"Robbie–!" Althea screamed, running towards her brother. "Robbie – no – not again!"

Robbie continued down the corridor, his heart thumping in his chest. He turned his head to look back at his sister as he hurtled through the opening at the end, a grin so like his father's plastered on his face.

"He shoots!" Robbie raised his hands and pushed forward with his arms. The football flew through the air and bounced off the top of a very irate Time Lord's head.

"And scores!" Robbie lifted up his shirt and pulled it over his head, running in circles around the console and narrowly avoiding kicking his father in the head several times.

"Robbie!" the Doctor yelled. "How many times! Not in the console room – and especially not when I'm under the grating!" Robbie pulled his shirt down.

"Sorry, Dad!" Althea said, drawing to a stop beside his face. "I did try to stop him, but he insists on using your head as the goal."

"I'm going to insist the TARDIS locks you in a padded room in a minute!" the Doctor roared at his son, his hair sticking up even more than usual due to him constantly running his fingers through it in irritation.

Robbie collapsed next to the Doctor and sat cross-legged beside him. The Time Lord glared at his son and raised the sonic screwdriver, poking him in the chest with it. _"Padded room,"_ he repeated dangerously. Robbie yawned.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he answered, "so you said." Althea sat down next to the Doctor on his other side, reaching over and taking the sonic screwdriver from his hands.

"Can you teach me how to work this thing yet?" she asked, tossing it from hand to hand absent-mindedly. The Doctor dove underneath the grating and pulled out two red wires, holding them together.

"No. But aim it at the join – or lack of – of these and press the button on the top," he instructed.

Althea inspected the sonic screwdriver, locating the button before pointing it at the join and pressing down. The wires lit up blue, there was a whirr, and they reattached themselves with a slight clicking noise. Althea grinned in delight, releasing the button.

"Your head all right, Doctor?" Robbie asked innocently.

"Fine thanks, Robbie," the Doctor replied monotonously, retrieving the sonic screwdriver from his daughter and squeezing back underneath the floor, pulling the reattached wires with him. He was used to his son's temperament now and had had enough time to learn how to deal with it. Robbie just loved to see him shout.

Robbie put his hands out and took the ball which had been gradually rolling towards him. He threw it up and down in his hands. "Robbie–" the Doctor said warningly, not even looking around. Robbie pouted and threw the ball towards the corridor. It bounced in a zigzag motion along the walls and the Doctor could hear the TARDIS sigh audibly in his mind.

"How much longer are we going to be here for?" Robbie asked.

"I've told you before – I don't know," the Doctor said, sticking the sonic screwdriver in his mouth and twisting onto his back in order to reach a few more wires. "The TARDIS isn't very happy at the moment. Then again, I don't blame her with you on board."

"What's wrong with me?"

The Doctor paused in his work to stare dryly at his son, before going back to work. "Robbie's right, though," Althea said, sighing, "we have been here for about a week."

"Thea," the Doctor replied exasperatedly, taking the sonic screwdriver out from his mouth and clicking the button on, "as I've told you about a thousand times, the TARDIS is a _time machine_. You'll be home for Rachel's party, okay? Any more complaints?"

"Guess not," Althea mumbled.

"Good! Now, have any of you seen your mother?"

"I think she's at a massage," Althea replied.

"Wrong!" a voice said from the door of the TARDIS. "She's here!"

The Doctor poked his head out from under the floor and grinned widely at Rose. He tucked the sonic screwdriver into his inside jacket pocket. She was looking radiant as usual, a blonde toddler perched on her hip, sucking her thumb. Her eyes lit up when the Doctor appeared from underneath the grating.

"Daddy!"

Their son John had actually turned out to be their daughter. They had been so sure that she was going to be male that they hadn't even considered female names, which caused problems for several days afterwards. Robbie's name suggestions hadn't been at all useful, probably because he was _trying_ to be awkward, and Althea's had been distinctly human. Rose had liked 'Lucy' as a name, but again, the Doctor had found this too human.

They had finally settled on Lucienne.

The Doctor loved his youngest daughter. It wasn't as if he didn't love Althea, or Robbie (although the latter was debateable at times), but they were extremely attached to Rose – Robbie especially. Lucienne had latched onto him. She was his Daddy's girl, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

The Doctor clambered out from under the grating as Lucienne disentangled herself from Rose and ran into his arms. He gathered the toddler up and hugged her tightly, straightening with his hand on the back of her head and stepping closer to Rose. Lucienne placed a thumb in her mouth and gripped the Doctor's right shoulder with her free hand.

"Were you at a massage?" he asked.

Rose nodded and walked towards him, giving him a quick kiss on the lips. "Yes, but this one–" she poked her daughter in the back, and Lucienne giggled "–wouldn't sit still, so I had to come back early."

The Doctor moved his daughter's head back so that he could see her face and said, in a voice only used for small children and particularly cute animals, "Aww, did Luci not want to see Mummy getting pampered?" Lucienne shook her head fervently. "Neither would I," the Doctor confessed conspiratorially.

"Oi, you!" Rose said, flicking him on the side of her head with a laugh and going over to envelop the twins in separate hugs.

"We were just trying to figure out how long we were going to be here," Althea said whilst she was hugging her mother, "since we've been here for ages already."

"Oh come on, Thea," Rose said, "your father chose the best place in the universe to get stranded – a beauty spa!"

"But Rachel's having this party–"

"If I hear one more thing about this party and how _Gareth_ is going to be there, I might just accidentally on purpose destroy one of the most important wires which the TARDIS desperately needs to function and then we'll be stuck here for another two months." As he was saying this, the Doctor swivelled around to face his family, his youngest daughter still in his arms.

"I agree," Robbie said, and then added under his breath, "For once."

"Thank you, Robbie!" the Doctor said, ignoring the last two words of his son's sentence and focussing on the first two words.

"No problem, _Dad,_" Robbie stressed.

"Much appreciated, _Robert_," the Doctor responded smoothly. He set Lucienne down just as Robbie folded his arms and _glared _– how he glared!

Rose cleared her throat loudly as the Doctor ran over to replace the grating before Lucienne could fall into the gaping hole it had left in the floor.

"For all those interested," he stated loudly, "we could be on our way very soon. If I didn't have such a big family, I'm sure I would have fixed it by now."

"Yeah, but you love us, Dad," Althea piped up.

The Doctor smiled at her. "Yes, I do."

"But for now, he wants us all to shove off, in the nicest way possible," Rose laughed.

The Doctor's eyes were appreciative – he was glad he had not had to say it himself. As his family trooped out of the console room, he couldn't help yelling (with an accusing finger pointing at his son), "No more bloody footballs, Robbie!" When Robbie made a rude gesture in response, the Doctor added, "And my head is not the goal!"


	12. Chapter 12

_A/n: Things are already heating up. Man, I moved things fast._

**Chapter 2**

They were back on the open road again, so to speak.

The Doctor felt somewhat limited now, because of his family. He wouldn't swap them for this universe (or any other, for that matter), but having a girlfriend and two daughters, he found himself in a lot of resorts and beauty spas. And holiday locations.

At the moment, they were in France. Rose had insisted on hiring a villa for authenticity, so the TARDIS was parked out the back, humming away to herself happily. She'd been doing so for a week, and the Doctor got the impression that she was content – if not thrilled – to have some rest and relaxation.

The Doctor was shopping. He wasn't even shopping with his girlfriend or one of his daughters (or even Robbie – that was laughable), he was shopping on his own for the Next Step.

He was a bit daunted by it all, if he was honest with himself. But when he reminded himself that he had a family with her now, and they'd been together for two or three years, he remembered that it wasn't fair to leave her hanging as he was.

And he'd seen this lovely jewellery shop…

He entered it and the bell rang with a tinkle. He immediately headed towards the rings, pulled out his glasses and inspected each and every one. They were all quite beautiful, but he couldn't see anything that was beautiful enough for his beautiful girlfriend.

"Going to pop the question, Sir?"

He turned around. An elderly lady was smiling at him with both mouth and eyes through red horn rimmed glasses. He returned the smile with both mouth and eyes through his own spectacles. "I was thinking about it, yes," he said.

"Come with me."

The Doctor followed her into the back of the shop. She began searching through drawers, clearly looking for something. "Been together long?" she enquired.

"Three years," the Doctor replied, looking about the storeroom. There was a huge amount of boxes – new stock, old stock, replacement stock. If he was Rose, he'd feel as if he was a child in a sweet shop. Luckily, he wasn't Rose.

"Thought about kids, or…?" The woman's voice cut into his thoughts.

"Well, we have three actually," the Doctor said, his chest swelling with pride.

"Three?" the woman repeated, pulling out a small red velvet box adorned with an orange ribbon. "That's nice."

"Yes," the Doctor agreed as she turned back to him and held the box out. He took it.

"Now, this is a beautiful ring," she commentated as he opened it. "Nine carat yellow gold, with the same setting. Diamond and citrine, as you see."

The ring was gold, with an orange stone in the middle and two elegant diamonds either side. It was beautiful – no, it was more than that; it was perfect. He grinned and looked up at her.

He left the shop fifteen minutes later, having paid for the ring and tucked the box into his jacket pocket – the one reserved for precious things, such as his sonic screwdriver. He looked up into the sky as it began to rain, and sighed. Even in the South of France in the height of Summer, Earth's weather _still _managed to be unpredictable. Well, it was his family's fault for not wanting to go to Astralax. He had suggested it, but no.

And now the day was ruined. If it had been a nice, warm evening, he might have proposed then. The golden orange light of the ring had to correspond with the golden orange light of the sun. This was karma coming around to bite him in the behind, he could tell. Or it was just plain bad luck.

As he headed back to the villa, he felt a sense of unease fall over him. Since he was a Time Lord, senses such as these were advanced and he wasn't about to ignore it. He looked about him warily and hurried on, his footsteps quick and his strides long.

When he turned to the desolate path (there always had to be a desolate path around, unfortunately) that led back to their villa and a few others, he stopped. Something was truly bothering him and if his instincts were right, he wasn't about to lead whoever it was back to his family.

The path was completely deserted. He was already one quarter of the way down it, so he turned and headed back towards the town. He wondered if whoever it was would be fooled. Somehow, he doubted it.

He was right. Before he could get back to where the majority of the population of the resort would be, he felt his body tingle. He was already soaked through and people usually got cold when this was the case, but he was still annoyed at himself for dismissing it so easily.

He collapsed to his knees. Pretty much all his energy was being drained dry; he could feel it happening. He looked to his right and saw a dark shadow holding out another dark shadow. A man with a gun? He squinted. Then his vision left him, and so did his consciousness.

He fell forward, his face connecting painfully with the floor.


End file.
